Marauder's Oath
by dreamydaydreamer
Summary: It had been a laugh, the oath. A blood promise of everlasting friendship, never to die no matter what the circumstances. Childish naivety, back when they were young and innocent. Back when they had believed it. But they lied, they broke the oath, and now he was all alone. Alone in his misery, as the last true and free Marauder. Moony throughout the years between 1981 and his death.
1. Oath

I love owning Harry Potter  
I love being called J.K.

I even love the men in white  
Who are taking me away!

Marauder's Oath

"Moony! Moooooooooooooony! You have to help me!"

Remus stared at his book, determined not to look. If he did, Sirius would give him that ridiculously effective puppy dog eyes face and he would cave, like he always did. Then somehow (he never could work out how) he would end up masterminding an enormously complicated prank which the professors would blame on the two Marauders who actually loved trouble. For example, The Blancmange Floor Incident. It never failed to astonish him how much effort James and Sirius would put into a prank compared to the ten minutes of work done on an essay the morning that it was due in. He refused to comment on how they got perfect marks anyway. It was the principle of the thing.

"Moony! Please!" Oh, great. He was being tag-teamed now. Still, he held out against the twin voices pleading with him.

"Moony? Please? Only, Padfoot looks likely to blow something up unless you do..."  
"See, Moony? Wormy wants you to do it too! You can't say no to all of us!"  
It was then that he made the fatal mistake of looking up into the six identical puppy eyes. Well, almost identical. Pete's watery blue eyes made his pleading face looked more like his constipated face. He sighed.

"That's underhand and you know it," he commented. "You lot should have been Slytherin."

Sirius wrinkled up his nose in disgust. "Slytherin? Moony, you wound me. You wound me deeply. I shall go and die while pondering how very very deeply you have wounded me. Wound my heart with monotonous langour!" He dramatically flopped to the grass beside Remus.

"That's from The Longest Day and it means that the invasion starts in 48 hours." He had introduced Sirius and James to Muggle movies over the summer. He had known from the very moment he turned on the TV that it was a mistake. They had spent a whole week glued to the screen taking note of the more explosive stunts. Luckily Remus had managed to drag them away before they caught more than a few minutes of The A-Team. He shuddered to think what might have happened if they had seen the whole episode.

Sirius shrugged gracefully. "Tomayto tomahto. Potayto potahto. Dayta dahta. Eether eyether. Neether-"  
"If I do what you want, will you stop your bloody talking?" Sirius tapped a long finger on his face, deep in thought.

"Nope. But I promise not to hex Snivellus for a day."  
"A week."  
"Two days. Three?"

"Five, final offer."  
"Make it four and we have a deal."

"Deal." They shook hands and stood up, brushing the grass off themselves. James clapped him on the shoulder.

"Good on you, Moony. We need everybody's help to pull this one off."

He dreaded the answer, but asked anyway.

"What do you want?" No use. James was in Speech Mode, usually reserved for pranks and Quidditch.

"We need to pull together and keep our eyes on the prize. Even you, Pete." The chubby boy nodded rapturously.

"Right. James-"

"We few. We, pranking few. We band of Marauders! For he who stands with me today shall BE a Marau-"  
"PRONGS! Stop murdering the Agincourt speech and get on with it!" Yep, definitely regretting the Muggle movies.

The messy haired Marauder gave a winning smile. "Right-o, Remie-"

"**Remie!**"

"Now **you're **interrupting. Honestly, Moony, you really do need to work on your people skills."

"Prongs, get to the point or so help me I will ram your people skills so far down your throat even Lily won't be able to excavate them during your tonsil hockey sessions."

Peter's eyes widened.

"Are you okay, Moony? Is it... you know?"  
Remus resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead settled for a simple yes.

At this point James realised what had been said.

"Hey! Lily and I don't have "tonsil sockie lessons"! What in the name of Merlin's big bushy beard are they anyway?"

"For the love of Merlin, just get on with it!"

"Fine. Our mission is to stop Siri being bored so he won't blow anything up. And as we've been given our final warning until next week on the prank front, we need to do something legal."

"I know what we can do." Padfoot suddenly spoke up.

"We can do a blood pact!"

Wormtail paled.

"B-blood?" He squeaked, an octave higher than usual.

Prongs snorted, "Seriously, Wormy? You run around with a werewolf and you're afraid of blood?"  
Remus glanced over his shoulder. Seeing nobody, he decided to let it slide this time.

Sirius looked delighted by this new information.

"Blood! Blood, blood, blood, blood. Guts. Gore."  
"Vomit!"  
"Veins!"  
"Vegetables!"  
Sirius opened his mouth to continue, then closed it and turned to James.

"Vegetables?" James shrugged.

"Most disgusting thing I can think of. Apart from the time my Great Aunt Ethel spat out her falsers into the soup then stuck them back in and served the soup, and I'd rather not dwell on that."

They shuddered as one, Peter looking rather green.

In a desperate attempt to change the subject, Remus broke the silence.

"So how does this work?"

Ten minutes later, they were sat in a circle in their dorm, alone but for Frank Longbottom's toad Stanley. Thankfully, Frank was visiting his mother this week and wouldn't be around to see them. Stanley had been entrusted to Remus for the duration of his absence. He had pressed the amphibian into the hands of the startled werewolf with wild eyes.

"Don't let them near him! Whatever you do, just don't let them touch Stanley! _For the love of God, keep them away from him!_"

Well. What could he do?

"Remus, you can put the toad down now. We aren't going to jinx it," James huffed, full of righteous indignation.

"You know, that would be a lot more convincing if you didn't have your wand pointed at him." Remus curled a hand around the poor toad.  
"How about now?"

"It's behind your ear. And now Sirius has his wand out."

Sirius batted his eyelashes innocently, a move which would have made James look weird and Peter look like he was having a seizure, but he somehow pulled it off. Remus, of course, would never stoop so low as to try it.

"We weren't going to hurt it, per se...just turn it different colours. Picture it now- STANLEY! Ze Uh-may-zing Techicolour Dream Frog!" He accompanied this with a flourish, forgot he was sitting down and attempted to take a bow. The result was a bruised head and a lot of theatrical moaning. Peter furrowed his brow in confusion.

"I thought it was a toad..."  
James broke in, slinging an arm around the rat's shoulder's. "Pete, Pete, Pete... It's simple, really. Stanley isn't a toad at all. He's an Animagus who got bored of life as a human and went to live in his animal form full time. Sirius, quit the dramatics, we need to get on with this."  
Sirius made a miraculous recovery and sprang back to life. "Sir yes sir! Right, so you get your wand and you cast the spell on your left hand. It makes a little cut. Then you do it for the person to your left on their wand hand- oh, come off it Pete!"  
The boy stubbornly shook his head, "You go first."

Sirius hesitated. "James, you're eldest..."  
"Actually, you are. By nearly six months, in fact," James corrected him, amused.

"Well, yes, but..."  
"Age before beauty!"  
"Ladies first!"

"Dust before the broom!"

"_Parva Sectis!_" Remus muttered, pointing his wand at his hand. The boys stopped squabbling and turned to see the beads of scarlet make their way down his scarred hand.

"Moony..." They shuffled in an abashed fashion. Remus rolled his eyes.

"Come on, then, do my right hand!"  
With much grumbling from Pete, they eventually ended up with eight bleeding palms between them.  
"If this scars, my mum will murder me..." Sirius elbowed Peter in the ribs, nodding to Remus.  
"Tactless, thy name is Wormtail!" Muggle movies. Never again.

Remus sighed and gave Peter an small smile. "It's fine, Pete. Anyway, it'll scar, but it will only be a thin one. You could heal it with a spell." Even as he said it, he knew none of them would. A trickle of blood travelled down his wrist. He licked it away before it could reach his arm.

"Can we proceed please? I'd appreciate the full use of my hands."  
Padfoot pressed his left hand to James' right hand. James pressed his left hand to Remus' right hand. Remus pressed his left hand to Peter's. Peter almost threw up at the blood and pressed his hand to Sirius'.

"Right. We hereby do swear to trust each other above all others." He nodded to James. "Go around the circle."

"Err... To speak only the truth to each other."

"To keep one another's secrets."

"Not to be mean to each other!"

Circle completed, Sirius spoke again.

"To stay true to each other."

"To laugh with each other."  
"To protect each other."  
"To help each other."

By some unspoken agreement, they crossed their arms over and pressed their other hands together. "Friends for ever?" he asked, rather solemnly. James, uncharacteristically serious, continued.

"We solemnly swear."  
Peter's brow creased in though for a second, then, "For eternity!" He looked very proud of himself, flushing at James' approving smile.

Remus smiled, knowing just the words to round it off.

"Marauder's Forever."

James broke the solemn mood with a cheery grin. Standing up and stretching, he pulled them all to their feet.  
"Come on! People to prank, Slytherins to scare, homework to ignore!"  
"Prongs, you can't just igno-"

"Just chill, Moony! Go with the flow! We're the Marauders! We're invincible! _And _we have a toad to charm!"  
With that, he scooped up Stanley and legged it.

Remus spluttered. "Hey! Wait!_** PRONGS!**_"

AUTHOR'S NOTE- Wow, I haven't written anything for ages. It's not that I have writer's block- au contraire. I'm in Plot Bunny Meadow. Plot bunnies... pah. They're more like Tasmanian Devils, to tell the truth. I can't decide what to write out of the many ideas and fandoms I've planned out, so I'm doing it blind- I sat down, pulled out Sparky (That's my netbook. My charger is called Blinky because sometimes it works, sometimes not.), opened up WordPad and I was off!

Oh, by the way, I'm going to make this a two shot, but if you want to leave it without any angst/depression, stop here. Please.

Reviews are definitely appreciated! I mean it. I love reviewers. I'll write you sonnets! Err... actually, better make that limericks.


	2. Deny

Denial

Remus tugged on his scarf as he left the safehouse, a nervous action. He had been on edge all day, his inner wolf knowing that something would happen, but his conscious self unable to put his finger on it. He dropped his hand and continued up the street, ignoring both the feeling and the odd looks he got from the Order members also leaving the meeting. He sighed, knowing what they thought. They though that he was the mole, he was the one leaking information, he was the one who would betray them all. And it hurt, it bloody well hurt, knowing what they whispered about behind his back, forgetting that his sharp senses could hear every single barbed word. He would _never _betray them, had never even given them reason to suspect. But they had reasons. Well, one reason.

He sighed again. To hell with walking. He spun on the spot, concentrating on the image of his cottage. It was a little shabby, a little isolated, but it was neat and had character. He snorted softly. A little like him, then.

He appeared outside the wall around his small garden. Having a mischievous side, when he had been told to protaect his home he had done it in the Marauder fashion. If anyone stepped so much as half an inch past the gate without providing proof of identity, they would be in for a few nasty surprises.

He drew his wand and tapped the gate. That was one of the upsides of living in such seclusion- there was nobody around to see him. Speaking clearly, he said his keyphrase.

"I am Moony; do you know me?" He waited for a second. Words appeared in glowing letters. HULLO, MOONY OLD MATE! _Pads, I don't need to put a message up to welcome MYSELF into my own house.__ PFFT! _YEAH YOU DO. _Don't._DO_. __Siri, I DON'T._ DO! _Oh, shut up. Future me, I hope you aren't still hanging around with this pillock. _HEY! ~_Moony_& PADFOOT =]

A symbol appeared. A paw print, a pair of antlers, and a tiny rat print, inside a circular shape. He traced the symbol with his wand and tapped it four times. The gate swung open.

Remus eased his way in, careful not to step on the first paving stone. Standing on it would send him straight to his father's barn in Cardiff, where John Lupin, Department of Magical Creatures, kept his menagerie. Crups, Dugbogs, Grindylows, Diricrawls, Boggarts, Hinkypunks and their accompanying bogs, the whole shebang. He let out a snicker at the memory flitting through his head.

John Lupin had sent him a Patronus telling him to get to the barn pronto, and, terrified for his father, he had- only to see a Death Eater being mobbed by a flock of Kneazles, squealing like a banshee and his dad literally on the floor with laughter, tears coursing down his cheeks. The best part, he mused, had probably been when the would-be intruder tripped over and sat on a Knarl.

With that thought to cheer him up a little, he picked his way through the numerous booby traps to his door. Laying his palms flat upon his door, a ribbon of silver snaked between them. When he lifted them away, the door was glowing with more letters. _**WELCOME HOME, MOONY! **__~Wormtail, _PADFOOT =] & **Prongs =P**  
The locking ward disarmed and allowed him to enter his sanctuary. Whatever might happen or be happening, it would seem less foreboding after a cup of tea and a nap.

Or so he thought.

He woke up with a gasp, clutching his chest in agony. It was a searing ache, not exactly physical, but definitely painful. The wolf howled in his head. He doubled over as a fresh wave of pain hit him, naseau gripping his stomach. His head spun. He choked out a half sob. Everything hurt. He let out a whine of pain, rather more lupine than he would have liked, and staggered to his feet. He tried to conjure a Patronus, but failed miserably.

Throwing a handful of Floo Powder into the fire, he emerged in the Order headquarters. Molly Weasley rose from her seat, wand half raised. Seeing it was only Remus, she lowered it and went to sit back down, but stopped as she saw his face.

"Remus! What... has something happened?" She lifted worried brown eyes to his pained amber ones, instantly fearful. The death of her brothers had hit them all hard, and the Order were constantly on edge.

He struggled to stand upright. "I... I don't know! Something isn't right... something is horribly wrong..." Unable to stay still, he paced the room. Twelve strides across, ten along. He sank into a chair and put his head in his hands. His eyes burned and his vision blurred. It took him a moment to realise that he was on the verge of crying. Stubbornly, he refused to let any tears fall. Why was he so upset? It made no sense.

The Floo flared up again. Remus didn't raise his head.

"Remus. Molly. I have grave news." He snapped his slightly watery gaze up, gripping his stomach. Molly gasped.

Professor Dumbledore stood in front of the fireplace, eyes grave, the usual twinkle noticably absent. Remus felt dread curl around his gut, adding to the maelstrom of bad feelings and pain swirling around his soul. This would be bad. Whatever Dumbledore had to say, it would be very, very bad.

"Tonight, Lily and James were betrayed by Sirius. Voldemort came to their house and... killed them. He was defeated by one of his own curses, however, and can be considered gone." Molly let out a sob. Remus stared, horrified. Blood pounded in his ears. Inside his head, the wolf howled in mourning. His pulse felt louder than a drum and he could dimly see Dumbledore's mouth moving, hear something about how little Harry had survived, but the pounding of his heart

drowned it out. He opened his mouth slightly, then closed it.

"_WHAT?_"His voice came out louder than he had intended.

Dumbledore turned to him, compassion in his eyes. Remus didn't care.

"No! It's not true! They aren't... No!" Somewhere long the line he had pulled his knees up to his chest. He wrapped his long arms around them tightly, like holding onto his limbs would somehow keep his soul together.

Molly's tear filled face appeared in his line of sight.

"Oh, Remus... They are." She started sobbing. Dumbledore conjured a tissue for her, then with one last look at Remus, he left, presumably to inform others of the earthshattering news.

The door burst open, causing Molly to jump. Remus didn't move.

"Molly! Did you hear... what they're saying... the Potters-" Arthur Weasley entered the room, but broke off as he saw his wife weeping. He deflated instantly.

"Do you mean... it's true?" Remus' gaze clouded over.

"IT- IS- NOT- TRUE!" He all but roared. "It ISN'T, it CAN'T BE!" Arthur jumped about a foot in the air. He hadn't even noticed Remus sitting there until the man had shot to his feet and started yelling.

Something had changed about the man. His eyes, always a warm amber, were a strange yellowish gold, a shade which gave Arthur chills. His face was sharper, more angular. His eyebrows were pulled into a deep scowl and his expression was one of furious denial. It was the first time in all Arthur's years of knowing him that he had ever been truly afraid of Remus Lupin. Without intending to, he stepped in front of his sobbing wife, wand raised at the threat. All at once, Remus' eyes cleared and deepened to their usual colour. He could see the agony in them, and the reflection of himself with his wand pointed at the werewolf's head. The most sorrowful look crossed Remus' face as he turned away, muttering to himself, "It isn't..."  
The fireplace turned green once more, and he was gone, leaving Arthur to console his wife.

Albus Dumbledore approached the gate with minor trepidation. Remus was known for being generous with his defenses. He tapped his wand on it. Glowing letters appeared. _Identify yourself__. ~Moony_

Well, that was somewhat relieving. The gate had the same charms as the other Marauders had put on theirs.

The charm meant you had cast a spell and say what you wanted your message to be beforehand, then it would flash up when the specific person tried to enter. It was a little like a Muggle answering machine, but magical. If you weren't on the list of messages and tried to enter, you would be denied entry. In this case, you would probably be attacked by Remus' hidden supply of Doxies.

He spoke. "I am Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Do you know me?"

The letters swam around and were replaced with more. AH, DUMBLES! COME ON IN THEN, BEFORE MOONY THROTTLES ME FOR INTERFERING WITH HIS WARDS- ERRRRK! _Padfoot, shut up, this is a recording spell! Now he'll see this every time he- oh. Bugger. __** OOH! **_**Moony swore! Our little Remie is all grown u- what do you want **_**now**_**, Wormy? **_Umm... Remus doesn't look very happy... oh! James, are you okay? That looks painful... __I warned you about calling me that, didn't I? Err... come in, Professor... Oh, and mind where you step. _

~_Moony_, _Wormtail, _PADFOOT =] & **Prongs =P**

The professor smiled sadly at the message, tapping the glowing symbol four times. The gate swung open. He went to walk up the path, but remembered Remus' words just in time. He looked at the first step. A very slight shimmer betrayed the portal spell on it. With a slight smile, he stepped over it.

It took him a few minutes to reach the front door, though the path was only about five feet long. He successfully avoided the trick step, exploding garden gnomes, pet Cornish pixies and invisible bog, but was fooled by the doorknocker of all things. Brushing the bat dropping off his robes, he knocked on the door.

"Remus?" he called out. His only answer was the sound of something smashing. It sounded like glass. Probably a vase, he mused, knocking again.

"Remus?" He called more firmly. "Open this door." A muffled voice told him to go and do something biologically and physically impossible. Really, he never would have expected it of quiet Remus Lupin.

"Remus, I'm giving you two minutes to open this door." He began humming to himself. After one minute and thirty seven seconds, the door swung open. Dumbledore stepped over the threshold and into the cottage.

It was easy to find Remus. He was curled up in a tight ball in the sitting room, arms around this knees, head on his arms, rocking slightly. He was surrounded in smashed plates, broken vases and splintered furniture. The wallpaper was marked, presumably where the books lying at the foot of the walls had connected at a high velocity. One of the only unbroken item in the room was a small, wooden photo frame. Dumbledore peered at it over his half-moon glasses. Four boys were grinning at a camera, a stocky one with grey eyes doing rabbit ears behind the messy hair of the boy beside him. Another of them had a book in his hands and seemed to be torn between laughing and lecturing the first two, while the short, chubby one looked up in adoration at the other three. Sirius dropped his hand and ruffled young Pettigrew's hair. The boy looked delighted. James slung his arm around Black's shoulder's, leaning his other arm on Remus' shoulder. The werewolf gave a smile and put James in a headlock, ruffling his already messy hair- just as Lily waked through the background. Dumbledore went to pick up the photo to look at it more closely. A hand shot out and grabbed it before he could touch it. He turned around.

Remus had uncurled and was sitting cross legged on the floor, clutching the photo. He stared into it as though it held the secrets of the universe. With a pang of sympathy, Dumbledore realised that for Remus, it probably did. He cleared his throat.

"Remus." The man didn't look up.

"Remus. It's been a week." Still nothing.

"I know it's been hard, but-" Remus' head snapped up. He issued Dumbledore with a glare that would have made a troll run screaming for its mammy. He was hard pressed not to flinch.

"Hard?" His voice was hoarse, bitter. "No, it's been a bloody _tea party_! A nice gentle stroll in the park, finding out that two of my pack are dead and another betrayed them." Dumbledore noted the use of the term "pack". It did not suggest a healthy mindset. The younger man scoffed.

"What do you want, anyway?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Remus, you need to let it go. You haven't left this house in a week. Your friends miss you." He realised his error instantly, but it was too late to take it back now.

"_Friends?_" Remus shot to his feet. With faint surprise, Dumbledore realised he was taller than he himself was. "What _friends? _You mean the dead ones, the criminal one or the one I haven't seen for _weeks _because you-" He jabbed a finger towards the startled Headmaster. "-have had me on missions left right and centre! People think _I _was part of Siri- _his _plan, especially because you've had me liasing with the werewolves! Maybe if I was home more, I could have seen it, I could have stopped it, but I _wasn't, _and now they're GONE!" His chest was rising and falling rapidly, balled hands trembling slightly. He took a breath, deflating. "I should be too..." he muttered. Dumbledore sighed.  
"Remus," he said, gently. "You couldn't have prevented it even if you had been there. Voldemort was set on killing Lily and James, and was vanquished by the power of LIly's love for Harry. You are not the only one who mourns for their loss.

"Maybe I'm not the only one to mourn for them," Remus hissed, leaning in. "But I sure as hell _am _the only one who would take Voldemort back any day if it meant I could have them back, and I'm not the one who's trying to make October 31st a day of bloody _celebration!" _He scoffed and rocked back on his heels. He ran a hand through his prematurely greying hair. Dumbledore studied him carefully. He was even more skinny than usual, with purplish bags under his bloodshot eyes. His shoulders were slumped as though the weight of the world pressed upon them. The photo was still in his hand, the frame in serious structural danger.

"Just go."

The voice was quiet, hoarse and almost painfully hopeless.

"It's not like anything you can say will actually help, so..."

Dumbledore sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.  
"Very well. I shall go. Know this however; the Order has been decimated. We would appreciate it if you showed yourself at next week's memorial service for the fallen, if only to prove that you are still alive."

"Maybe I don't want to be."

"Remus." His voice held a warning tone.

"Will you leave me alone if I say yes?"  
"Perhaps."  
"Fine. I'll go. Now you can go."

With no other options, Dumbledore did, pausing only to call back with, "Oh, by the way, I was rather impressed with your defenses. I was completely taken in by the doorknob until it started firing bat droppings at me." He was rewarded with the ghost of a smile before he left, leaving the second most lonely man he had met behind him.  
_

AUTHOR'S NOTE- Well. Not totally happy with this, but still. Hypothetically, your best friend is murdered by your other best friend. With that cheerful thought, how do you react? With either anger, depression, denial or all three. I picked all three for poor Remus.  
Please leave me a review! I've had a few favourites and story alerts but only two reviews. From **GoldJinx170**, who always reviews my stories. Still lovely though. Good to hear from you again! By the way, the angst is on ;~)

And **mockingjay75**, who knows GoldJinx! That's pretty epic, y'know. *awesome coincidence dance* She and I have very random and prolonged conversations courtesy of the PM function. Perhaps you would care to do so as well? Also, is that a reference to LIFEGOESON, one of the most epic songs ever written?

Mind you, if you have time to put in on your alerts than you have time to write a few words or even a smiley face. =~] or =~[ would do. Make sure you put the nose ~ in though, we don't want any Voldemorts.

The chapter was inspired by a song by The Fray, called How To Save A Life. It really sums up how I think Remus might feel after James and Lily's deaths. *hums* Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend, somewhere along in the bitterness, and I would have stayed up with you all night, had I known, how to save a life. Anyway. Ahem.


	3. Service

Service

The sun hid behind a blanket of clouds, casting a pale light over the Black Lake. The crowd gathered around Dumbledore as he spoke.

"Time shall not age them, nor tarnish our memories of them. They shall forever be with us; if not in body but in spirit. We will remember their sacrifice, and we will remember them."

The congregation mumbled along with the last four words, a little like the Muggle Armistice Day. Remus didn't. He was spaced out, focused on nothing in particular but his thoughts. To be honest, he hadn't really been listening throughout the whole ceremony. His mind had been in the past, where he wished he could remain.

"Let us now remember the individuals whom have surrendered their lives for the greater good." Dumbledore opened a roll of parchment.

"Sarah Abbot, of Helgahop, aged 47. Died in the Battle of Hogsmeade. Survived by her sister Annie Neilson." Annie and her husband placed a wreath on the grass, retreating with a sad smile.

"Benjamin Ackley, of London, aged 27. Died in the raid of of Ministry. Survived by his wife Abbie and son Simon." A small boy of around five years old was led forward by a weeping woman, who shakily conjured roses for her son to place. Stumbling slightly, the boy put the flowers on the grass and retreated to his mother. Remus wondered if he knew what was happening or if it was all a blur to him, just as the last two weeks had been a blur to Remus. He had barely eaten, barely slept, and hadn't set foot past his doorstep once since... _it _had happened. He clenched his fists, nails digging into his flesh. The pain was welcome. It made him feel more alive.

The service had continued as his mind had wandered, yet they were only now approaching the C's. So many people had died. So many people wrenched from their lives and families, and so many left behind to suffer on Earth. It wasn't fair, he thought, uncharacteristically bitter. It wasn't fair for _him _to have betrayed them, to have broken the Oath, the code, the Fidelius Charm and their trust. It wasn't fair that _he _had left him there to suffer on his own. Even Peter was missing, with nobody having a clue where he could be. It just _wasn't fair. _

He gave a wry snort, which he hastily turned into a cough as he remembered where he was. It shouldn't have come as such a surprise. After all, Remus knew better than anybody how unfair life was. He had lost any illusions about the innocence and safety of the world when he was five years old. After that fateful bite, his whole world had been turned upside down. Then it had happened again only two weeks ago. Logically, turning something upside down twice should return it to its original state, but that wasn't happening. Nothing could make this messed up situation better. Nothing.

"Davey Gudgeon, of Edinburgh, aged 23. Died at home after a Death Eater attack. Survived by none." Nobody stepped forward to put a flower down for him. Davey Gudgeon. Two years older than Remus. He had nearly lost an eye while trying to touch the Whomping Willow in his third year, a tree planted especially for Remus. Full of bravado, always up for a dare, Devil-May-Care Davey. And no one was there to grieve for him.

Remus waved his wand surreptitiously and silently spoke his spell. A flower appeared on the grass. Edelweiss, meaning daring in the secret language of flowers. A fitting gift.

Dumbledore shot him a knowing glance, but Remus dropped his gaze. He might be out of his room, but he wasn't quite ready for eye contact yet.

"Elizabeth Hardy, of Cardiff..."

The service went on, Remus only stirring from his thoughts at the names he recognised. It was a sore blow when Augusta Longbottom stepped up, little Neville in her arms, to honour Alice and Frank Longbottom's not-quite-death but descent into insanity. He had shared a room with Frank and that toad of his, Stanley, or as Sirius had renamed him, Stella- _no, don't think about him. The ministry will catch him. _He tried to squish the traitorous whisper in his mind which asked if he truly wanted that to happen. Alice Tait was Lily's best friend throughout school. Neville and Harry had spent many an afternoon being babysitted by Prongs, totally clueless and usually up to his neck in nappies and bottles. He would end up enlisting Remus, Peter and- _him _to "help out". Lily and Alice always got home to find not one, but four men trying to wrestle with a nappy.

Men? When had they become men? Whatever happened to "boys"? "Irresponsible, incorrigible lunatics with the sense of the average grapefruit" according to Professor Minnie- _McGonagall. _James' insistence on referring to the Transfiguration professor as "ol' Minnie" had rubbed off on Remus over the years, much to his dismay. What happened to "big-headed pigs who couldn't find their arse with an atlas" according to pre-seventh year Lily? "Lads", "mates", "idiots who will NEVER toadsit again!". "Marauders"?

No. They had stopped being the Marauders the day Padfoot murdered Prongs, the day Sirius betrayed his pack. Remus winced at the memory of the pain, rubbing his chest. It was bizarre, but the wolf was hurt and his pack was hurt. So Remus hurt.

"James and Lily Potter, nee Evans, of Godric's Hollow, both aged 21. Died at home after Voldemort-" Mass flinching. Remus didn't care. A name was a name, and a name could not stop the pain.

"-attacked them. He was defeated in the process. They are survived by their son, Harry-" The gathering whooped and cheered. How could they? This was a memorial service. How could they stand there and celebrate the vanquishing of an evil and forget about the cost of such a defeat? How could they forget Lily and James' sacrifice?

_"We, my friend, are geniuses!"  
"Genii."_

_"Wait, the floaty blue thing from Aladdin?"  
"No, it's- never mind."  
"We are brilliant! We will go down in history forever as the Greatest Pranksters Ever! History shall remember our awesomosity- Moony, I know it's not a word, just pretend for a minute, okay?"_

_"I'll pretend it's a word if you put the ceiling back!"_

Well, Prongs, you got your wish, it seems, he thought sadly. You'll go down in history all right, but not as you intended. You'll be famous- for your death.

Many peope had stepped up to place flowers for the Potters. Remus didn't. It seemed cheap to honour their memory with people who couldn't care less about them as people, only as posthumous idols.

Molly sobbed as she passed Remus, Arthur by her side. Oh, yes. The Prewett twins had gone a week ago while he was still destroying every item he possessed. It had taken numerous Repairing Charms to get everything back in order. Still, Gideon and Fabian were the year below Remus in school. They had idolised the Marauders, and came up with some good prank item ideas. Fantastic duelists, both of them.

What was it that made the good die young? Why did everything that meant something come to an end? Rhetorical questions though they were, Remus did want an answer.

"-and his aunt, uncle and cousin." His thoughts had only taken the length of time it took for the cheering to die down. They were settled now, though, ready to resume the service. However, they were interrupted, not by a person, but by a Patronus.

A silver lynx burst into sight in front of Dumbledore. The slow, deep voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt came out of it.

_"Sirius Black is in Ministry custody. He has killed thirteen Muggles and one wizard, by the name of Peter Pettigrew. I request urgent assistance in sorting this matter out." _The lynx faded away, breaking the spell of silence that had fallen over the congregation.

"-Black killed _thirteen_-"  
"Pettigrew-"

"-Azkaban, for sure."

"-went to school with him!"

"I wonder why-"

How strange. The world appeared to be spinning. It always was spinning, of course, but it seemed to be visible now. And what was that odd whooshing sound that drowned out the babbling of the crowd? Perhaps it was in his head, because he seemed to be going mad. There was no way that he had heard what he just heard.

Peter couldn't be dead. He would have felt it, he would have known. There was no mistaking the pain of losing part of his pack, and this- numbness, was not it. It must be a mistake.

Oddly, everyone seemed taller. It took him a moment to realise he was sitting in the damp grass. He made no attempt to get up, however.

A reddish blur swam in front of him. Lily? No. Molly, her eyes bloodshot and her nose blotched with red.

"Remus? Remus? Look at me, dear. Arthur! Come here a moment, we need to get Remus away..." Arthur joined his wife beside the seated werewolf.

"Come on, Remus! Best to get away from here now. Come on, up you get!" He grabbed him by the arms and hauled him to his unsteady feet.

"Back to Headquarters, Molly?" The plump woman nodded firmly. It seemed to do her some good to have something to do.

"We'll have to Floo back from one of the Common Rooms. I'd prefer Gryffindor, House pride you know, but Ravenclaw is that much closer." She and Arthur half-dragged Remus to the doors, talking all the while. He glanced back towards the Lake and immediately wished he hadn't- he could see the beech tree they had spent so much time under.

Through the oak doors and along the stone corridors they hurried. He could have sworn he saw James leaning up against one of the paintings, but when he turned, it was only a shadow cast along the wall.

AUTHOR'S NOTE- This will be late in posting, but my internet is down. Oh well. It was finished on 5/7/12 (I'm from Scotland. That means the 5th of July 2012) at 00:04. So the 6th, technically. Hmm.

This is probably getting depressing, but one of my best friends is moving to London and it's unlikely that she'll be able to come back, even for visits. I'm sad so I can't write anything happy. Oh well...


	4. Escape

Escape

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Remus groaned and rolled over in his sleep. Undeterred, the alarm continued beeping, gaining impatience.

BEEP.

_BEEP._  
_**BEEP!**_

With one last, sleepy grumble, Remus rolled out of his bed and hit the floor with a crash which shook the room- notably the precariously balanced towers of books, which toppled over in a great wave of literature, completely burying the werewolf. For a brief moment the pile of books appeared to be well versed in the more creative expletives, before the true culprit emerged with a paperback perched atop his greying head. Still muttering mutinously, he pulled _Jane Eyre _off of his head and switched off the alarm.

Yawning, he opened a window and gulped in the cool, morning air. He cleared some floorspace and pointed his wand at the radio. It crackled to life and tuned in to _Mystic Milly's Seer Show. _He almost dropped his wand in his haste to switch channels.  
_"G'day, witches and wizards! In southern Australia, we're expecting hot weather with a temperature of around-"_

_"-a cauldron full of hot strong-" _

"Argh!"

_"-Sirius Black-"_

_"- Weird Sisters live-"_

"What?"

He flipped back a channel in alarm.

_"Mass murderer Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban. Repeat, he has escaped Azkaban. Convicted of the murders of thirteen Muggles and one wizard named Peter Pettigrew, he is considered highly dangerous and unstable. DO NOT APPROACH. Should you see him, get out of there as fast as you can, and contact Ministry officials __**immediately**__."_

It was like a punch to the stomach. Sirius... Peter... His old friends.

How long had it been now? Eleven, no, twelve years.

_Twelve years since he betrayed us_, he thought. _Twelve years since he broke his oath. Has it really been that long?_

Yes.It had been a long time. Twelve years of hermitage, denial and refusing to think about it. And what about Harry? Twelve years with the Muggles. He would be thirteen now. Third year at Hogwarts. Gryffindor? Hufflepuff? Ravenclaw? James would have had a coronary if he had made Slytherin... oh. Right. No, he wouldn't, because he was dead.

No matter how many times he told himself that, it _didn't _lessen the pain. It didn't decrease over time and it never would. Werewolves keep their pack for life. Greyback and the feral werewolves weren't a pack, they were a colony. They couldn't have cared less if another died, but Remus... he could never stop caring. Even about the traitor.

He gave a startled yelp as an owl swooped in through the open window. It carried an official looking letter.

"If that's from the bloody Ministry, you've wasted your time, because it's going straight on the fire." With full moon in two days, he wasn't mincing his words.

The owl gave him a Look, then presented Remus with her leg. He pulled off the letter and gave the owl an apologetic pat, freezing when he saw the wax seal.

A purple H, surrounded by a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake. Hogwarts. What could Dumbledore want from him now? He broke the seal with some trepidation.

_Dear Mr Lupin,_

_I am writing to inform you that you have been selected for the job of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I feel it my duty to warn you that the job appears to still be cursed and it is unlikely you will be able to make it to a second year, one way or another. Still, the job is yours. Term commences on September the 1st, 1993. Your ticket is enclosed._

_Yours,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore._

_Well, _thought Remus. _That settles the debate. He _is _off his rocker. _

How was he supposed to teach children? He was a werewolf, for crying out loud! There was a whole chapter devoted to the matter in the third year Defence books. It started on page 394 and went on until page 401. It was quite a comprehensive cover of all the dangers. Nope, not happening. There was no way he was going to- ooh, a postscript.

P.S. _Remus, I have no doubt that you intend to refuse this, but I must insist. After all, Harry may need protecting this year. He inherited James' nose for trouble, not to mention his disregard for danger._

Damn that manipulative old coot. Pulling the "protect the cub" card. How was he supposed to refuse now? He couldn't. He had to make sure that Harry was safe, and truth be told, he could use the money.

He sighed and sat down to reread the letter. _The job appears to still be cursed. _He would only get a year out of it, but then again, that was longer than he usually kept a job. He smiled as a memory of a happier time popped into his head.

_"Hey, Prongsie! Professor Nutten is leaving!"  
"Really, Siri? That's the fifth one to leave in four years. One fired-"  
"One got on the wrong end of a Tickling Hex and quit in indignation *coughcoughJAMES*-"_

_"How was I to know he would appear between me and Snape? Anyway, one on maternity leave-"_

_"Thank Merlin for that, she was nearly as bad than my mum. And now Professor Nutten is off- he's scared if he tries to stay on then he'll be cursed."  
"I guess there's "nutten" we can do about that."  
"You two disgrace the word "pun", I hope you know that."  
"You know what they say, Moony- where there's a will, there's a play!"  
"You're doing this on purpose!"  
"You must be loopy, Lupin. Angels such as ourselves would never do such a thing."  
"When did we get on the Knight Bus to Loonyland?"  
"Umm... James? What's a pun?"  
"Oh, there you are Pete! We need a lookout for when we go to charm the Slytherin's laundry. Just picture it- halfway through breakfast, their robes suddenly turn luminous pink. When they start screaming, their ties turn pastel pink. They try to attack us, but the Ravenclaw table is in the way and they don't like Slytherin. A fight will probably break out, and we can hex their hair hot pink!"_

_"Wow, James, that's a brilliant plan! Can I help?"  
"Ding ding ding! Loonyland City Centre, please display your ticket on the way out!"_

_"Prongs, how do you know so many names for pink?"  
"My cousin got married last year and I- well, I'd rather not talk about it."_

_"You mean- HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Prongsie wore pink!"  
"It was only the tie! And it was only fuschia pink!"  
"Fuschia- !"  
"I'll get you for this, Black!"  
"Oh, really, _Potter?"

The following prank war had taken a week to resolve, and would have gone on longer had Remus not declared the House Elves the unwitting victors due to all the potions and charms James and Sirius had put in the food.

With a soft smile, he pulled out some parchment and started to compose a reply. Back to Hogwarts. What was the worst that could happen?

AUTHOR'S NOTE- Should that be authoress' notes? I have no idea. Ah well. Remus is off to Hogwarts! I'm not too happy with this chapter, but reviews are appreciated nonetheless. Sorry it's late- I've been trying to put together a photo album for my friend who is moving and my printer isn't working so I'm pretty stressed out. Also I forgot what I called this chapter in my documents so I had to open about 30 documents and scan through them to check if it was this one. And THE NI uploaded the first chapter again. Silly dreamy .

Anyhow, hope you enjoyed.


	5. Wolf

Wolf

The full moon illuminated the grounds, casting shadows everywhere. Moonshadows. But that isn't all that a full moon brings.

The wolf that was Moony faced off against a big black dog. Padfoot. The scent of human- children- lingered in the air, but Moony had other issues.

There are many who claim that a transformed werewolf is utterly mindless. They are wrong. There is a mind, though not human. The mind of the wolf, yet more aware than a wolf. Especially, more aware of their pack.

It was there that the primitive thoughts of Moony were centred. Pack. Dog. Rat. Stag.

Padfoot. The traitor. Wormtail. The omega. Prongs. The deer. Dead.

He lunged at the traitor, growling furiously. He had committed the ultimate of crimes. Betrayal of the pack. Murder of the alpha. He had to die.

Padfoot snarled and fought back with the ferocity of a dog defending his pups. They were locked in combat, jaw to jaw, growling and tearing at each other, determined to win. Yet the dog fought not with the intention to kill...

The scents coming from the traitor were strange. The smell of determination, but no guilt. Not from him. The guilt came from another source.

The rat. The omega. The real traitor? Desperate for survival, running away from the battle. Padfoot broke free of the fight. Moony let him. Turning from the confusion, he fled into the forest.

The mind of the wolf cannot fathom such complicated concepts. Betrayal, yes. Framing another, no. Yet Padfoot did not seem to be the traitor, and Wormtail did, but that was wrong! Wormtail, pack. Padfoot, exile. It could be no other way.

The stubborn voice of man who took over the body for so much of the time fought to make itself heard, but Moony squished it down as he ran. There could be only one, and it was the man for too long. This was the night of the wolf, and it would stay that way for the next eight hours. One voice, one mind, one body.

That was the mind of the wolf.

AUTHOR'S NOTE- Yes, I know, I suck. That long between updates and then I churn out this. It's so short that I'm working on the next part immediately. Sort of. My internet is a bit iffy.

As always, she said, with a faint feeling of desperation, please leave a review! Please?


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